Brothers Stick By One Another
by Deanstiel's Daughter
Summary: (ONESHOT) America and Canada both wake up sick one morning and take care of one another, I mean they ARE brother's after all aren't they? America learns that Brothers really do stick by one another in times of need.


**I always peg Matthew as the older one so yeah he's older in this fic **

**This is a special ONESHOT for KorosuKa for being an awesome friend! .**

ONESHOT

Normally Matthew wasn't the one to wake up earlier then his brother, but today he assumed was the exception unless of course Alfred had slept on the couch last night after a movie and snacks marathon…mostly the snacks.

Matthew threw the covers off of him; he sucked the mucus back into his nose and placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He had contracted a really bad flu about a week and ago and he was just now on the mend a little. He felt his own forehead. He still had a low grade fever, but still…it was better than before.

He stood up and listened to coughing coming from the bed next to his against the opposite wall. He straightened his back and walked over to the source of the coughing. He looked down at the bed next to his and at his brother Alfred.

Alfred whimpered into his pillow as if he was dreaming but he clearly wasn't. Matthew cocked his head and looked concerned at his younger brother. Alfred was very sweaty even for a nineteen year old, and very clammy. He was breathing harder than normal and his nose was very stuffy.

"Hey Al," Matthew tapped his shoulder. "You feeling ok?"

Alfred moaned and looked up only once at his brother before turning on his side facing him.

"I don't feel good," Alfred said his eyes glassy and clearly sparking with fever. "I wanna die…"

"How long have you felt like this?" Matthew asked, placing an affectionate hand on Alfred's forehead to check for how bad his fever was.

"Since last night," Alfred coughed. "I didn't want to wake you…"

"Its fine," Matthew said, sitting next to Alfred. "I'm sick too, there's no way I got any sleep anyways."

"What," Alfred exclaimed, with that a hack left his lungs. "You think I'm sick, there's no way I'm sick, I'm the hero!"

"The fever says otherwise," Matthew replied. "Now sit up."

Alfred did as he was told.

"Dude," Alfred complained. "I told you I'm not sick, there's no need to fuss over me…"

"Sure," Matthew pulled the blanket tighter over his brother. "Now, do you want anything to eat?"

"No," Alfred said. "My stomach doesn't feel good…"

"Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?" Matthew asked.

"God you're talking to me like I'm five Mattie," Alfred shot back. "I'll take myself!"

Alfred stood up and immediately his stomach dropped to his feet. He raced out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. The sound of him vomiting into the toilet made Matthew's stomach lurch as well a little, but Matthew regained himself enough so he could go after Alfred.

Alfred flushed the toilet and walked out of the bathroom with a very sweaty and pale face.

"Still not sick," Matthew asked. "Eh?"

"Enough Canada," Alfred replied. "I'm fine…"

"If you say so," Matthew reached out to feel Alfred's forehead again. "You feel warmer than before, go lie down I'll make us lunch."

Alfred was about to argue before he just decided it'd be better to leave it. He lumbered his way back into their shared bedroom and onto his bed. His hair stuck to his fever-ridden forehead.

"So what if I'm a little sick," Alfred said to himself. "Mattie's sick too…he doesn't have to fuss over me like I'm a little baby though."

Matthew stood in the kitchen making soup. It was the only thing he'd been able to keep down all week and he assumed the same would go for Alfred. The pot simmered on the stove. Matthew went to answer the now ringing phone.

"Hello." He said.

"Ah Canada you sound better," Arthur said into the receiver. "I here that twit brother of yours stayed over last night, how'd that go."

"Ok until this morning," Matthew replied. "He's caught my stomach bug and threw up once this morning, today's the first day I haven't done that."

"Do you boys need anything," Arthur asked, a little concerned himself. "I can come over if you'd like?"

"We're quite fine," Matthew coughed once. "I'm pretty much on the mend, Al's ok but not chipper at all, if you'd like to stop by you can though."

"Alright," Arthur said. "I swear though if that damn wanker sneezes on me…"

"I'll make sure he won't." Matthew laughed.

"Very well then," Arthur replied. "I'll see you both around one, goodbye Canada."

"Goodbye." Matthew hung up the phone.

He continued to make the soup until it was done. He grabbed some Saltine crackers and placed it all on a tray for Alfred. He walked down the hall and into their room to find Alfred asleep. Matthew set down the tray and shook Alfred lightly; Alfred awoke and blinked things into focus.

"Oh that's right," Matthew said. "Your glasses, where'd you put them?"

"I don't know," Alfred said. "All I know is that I can't see shit without em!"

Matthew looked over and sure enough there was Texas. He picked up Alfred's glasses and placed them into Alfred's careful hands. Alfred slid them onto his face and everything came into focus.

"Ah much better." Alfred said.

Matthew smiled and set the tray in front of Alfred.

"Eat up," Matthew said, helping himself to one of the crackers. "It'll help your stomach…"

"I doubt that," Alfred laughed. "My stomach's worse than before."

"You think you're going to throw up again?" Matthew asked.

"Not right now," Alfred cleared his scratchy throat. "But maybe soon."

Matthew carefully watched his brother eat for a few minutes before grabbing his own bowl of soup and package of crackers. He ate slower than Alfred, but still fast enough to finish within fifteen minutes.

This time it was his turn to feel queasy.

"Uh," Matthew stood up and stumbled down the hall. "Excuse me…"

He came back out moments later, looking less pale than before. He then sat down on his bed and clutched his stomach.

"Well," Matthew said. "I guess I'm having a relapse."

"It's all good," Alfred half smiled and lay back down a little after placing his tray on his side table. "I'm surprised I'm keeping it down, not that I'm saying it's bad."

"No of course not," Matthew laughed. "You're just sick…"

"How many times do I have to say it," Alfred yelled. "I am not sick!"

"From what Matthew told me," a voice said. "You've been taken ill like him?"

"Britain dude," Alfred said. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on my little brothers," Arthur felt Matthew's forehead and then Alfred's then smiled. "Is that not allowed?"

"No it's allowed," Alfred said. "I just thought you'd avoid me like the plague."

"I said I'd avoid you IF you had the plague," Arthur replied. "But still…"

"Still," Alfred coughed into his sleeve, which Arthur assumed to be very considerate considering Alfred was well…, Alfred. "So you come to lecture me about washing my hands or something."

"Nope," Arthur smiled. "Just to see that you're not dying…not that I care or anything!"

"Sure," Alfred joked. "You'd be so sad if I died!"

As if on cue Alfred hacked.

"I think you'd better rest," Arthur rubbed Alfred's back and then stood up to tend to Matthew. "I'll check up on you later this week."

"Hey Britain dude," Alfred was a little embarrassed. "Thanks…"

"You're welcome," Arthur replied. "Now rest, you fobbish twit."

Alfred closed his eyes.

"Hey Canada," Arthur felt his forehead. "You or America need anything you call me you got it."

Matthew then fell asleep himself.

Hours past and night soon fell. It was about one in the morning when Matthew was awoken by something poking him. He looked down expecting Kimajiro, but instead he found Alfred.

"Hey Mattie," Alfred looked as if he was going to cry. "I-I had a b-bad dream."

"Get in." Matthew lifted up his covers, rolled his eyes, and Alfred slid in.

Alfred's body was hot from fever and sickness, but it felt surprisingly comforting against Matthew.

"Say Al," Matthew said while facing the wall. "Thanks for not being a jerk today."

"It's only because I'm sick…" Alfred said.

"Ha," Matthew replied. "You finally admitted it."

"Fine," Alfred admitted. "I just didn't…"

"Didn't what Al?" Matthew asked curling his back closer to his brother's back.

"I didn't want to seem weak in front of you," Alfred was crying a little. "I've always tried to be there for you and when I couldn't today…I felt weak."

"Al," Matthew replied. "No one can help getting sick, you're not weak, on the contrary you're the strongest person I know…and my role model."

"You really mean it," Alfred said. "I'm a…role model?"

"Of course," Matthew smiled at particularly no one. "I may be older, but that doesn't mean I don't look up to you once in a while."

Silence filled the air.

"Hey Al," Matthew asked. "You awake?"

Alfred was snoring a tiny bit, but Matthew ignored it. He flipped and hugged his brother like a teddy bear, before falling asleep himself.

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